HTLJ: Unsettled Scores
by Arianna18
Summary: Xena is forced to face her past with Iolaus after he offers up his own life to save hers.


* * *

Iolaus was right, they'd scarcely missed a moment of the celebrations. While they'd been occupied with subduing the Sovereign and freeing the gods and Hercules from the Vaults of Heaven, the villagers of Lessos had been recovering from the landslide, restoring what they could, providing shelter for those who had lost their homes. Caring for those who had been injured. But, it was a new dawn, and all had lived. Reason, indeed, to celebrate the power and mercy of Zeus.

The heroes sought out the healer as soon as they reached the village. Xena's shoulder needed attention, and it was a painful process to bring the bones back into alignment, and to bind her arm immobile across her chest. Iolaus' ribs needed binding, but otherwise, he seemed little the worse for wear, although the bruises he sported were colourful.

"I don't understand it," Xena grumbled as she shot a sideways look at the hunter, irritated by the pain and, though she disliked admitting it to herself, the fact that the little hunter had withstood the brutal attack of the Sovereign better than she had. Remembering the blows Iolaus' had taken to the chest and head, the way the Sovereign had pounded him into the rocky earth, she had trouble understanding how he'd gotten off so lightly…if anything, he should be dying, if not already dead.

Hercules, too, cast a wondering look at his partner. Gabrielle had told him about the battle as they'd descended the mountain path, and he'd shuddered, horrified and sickened about the beating Iolaus had taken at his hands…well, not his hands, but hands that belonged to his counterpart. He knew his own strength, knew the Sovereign would not have pulled back. Frowning, he remembered the terrible injuries he'd seen when he'd first found them all, on the small plateau below the Vaults of Heaven. The broken line of Iolaus' jaw and crushed cheek, the jagged ribs under his hand when he'd laid it on Iolaus' chest to check his heartbeat, the rasping breathing and bubbling blood on his best friend's lips…the grayness of death in his face. Maddened with grief, knowing Iolaus was fast slipping away from him forever, the demigod had attacked the evil twin who'd used his brutal strength to kill his friend, uncaring at that point if he, himself, lived or died at that point, only knowing he wanted revenge.

But, now, in place of those horrific injuries there were only bruises, and some modestly cracked ribs.

Iolaus knew they were surprised at how lightly he seemed to have suffered, and he shared their amazement. He'd felt the ribs break, felt them lacerate his lungs when he'd fought the Sovereign…had thought his head might come off when the monster had backhanded him. Frankly, there'd been a point when he'd never expected to survive. But, moments after he'd revived after his spirit had reentered his body, he'd felt the agony subside, replaced by a new sense of energy and wellbeing.

Rubbing his sore ribs as he glanced from Xena to Hercules, he shrugged a little as he looked thoughtfully back up at the mountain. "Maybe…maybe one of them said 'thanks', after all," he murmured, confusion in his eyes.

"It was Hades," Gabrielle said, as if it had been obvious. When they all turned to look at her, she gazed back wide-eyed as she answered the unspoken questions in their eyes, "Well, who else? I had my hands on Iolaus' head…and I felt it when the strength flowed into him…it was…amazing. I caught Hades' gesture from the corner of my eye and looked up to see Persephone give him this great big, 'I'm so proud of you' smile. So, I figured…well, you weren't in very good shape, Iolaus. He'd've known that better than anyone."

Feeling vindicated, as if somehow she'd felt her indomitable strength had let her down and now knew this to be untrue, Xena shrugged. "Well, it's the least he could have done," she said dryly, turning to head back toward the heart of the village.

Iolaus scratched the back of his neck as he nodded thoughtfully, then looked up at Hercules with a grin. "And we both know how much he hates it when we mess up his paperwork…I guess this was easier than having to fight about it with you before he gave in."

Hercules looped an arm around his partner's shoulders as he gazed up at the mountain, his expression unreadable for a moment. He'd been so quick to assume no one had noticed, or cared, that Iolaus had risked himself for them…he felt a twinge of shame. Then, glancing down at Iolaus, one hand squeezing his shoulder lightly, he grinned as he replied quietly, "Then, I guess I owe him one…not for saving your life, because he owed you that…but for being so quick to assume nobody cared."

Gabrielle yawned widely, then covered her mouth with a giggle. "Sorry," she gurgled. "But, it's been a long night, after a very long day. I've got to get some shut-eye. And, Xena, you should rest for a while, too."

Xena cocked a brow at her partner, then gave her a slow smile, grateful for the concern though she resented her own weariness. Nodding reluctantly, she stifled her own yawn, and led the way back to the inn.

There was a good feeling in the village, a sense of joy, of disaster averted, and the villagers who encountered them in the lanes enthusiastically thanked them for all their help the night before. The heroes waved off the gratitude...they'd done no more than anyone would have done in the same circumstances. When they reached the inn, Hercules prevailed upon Iolaus to also get some rest, the better to party heartier later. So, they made their way to their rooms, each to think about the perils they'd faced the night before, grateful it had ended so happily for all concerned…relieved to know the Sovereign was once again imprisoned somewhere far away.

* * *

The weather had cleared, allowing the celebrations to spill onto the streets and lanes of the village for the remaining two days of the festival. There had been games and contests, singing and dancing, and Greece's most esteemed bard entertained them all with tale after tale of breathtaking heroics…including the newest saga of the defeat of the Sovereign and the rescue of the gods from the Vaults of Heaven. Music played from dawn to dawn, wine flowed and good food was plentiful…and, for the four heroes, despite their protests, all of it free for the asking. They laughed and partied wholeheartedly, enjoying the celebrations, enjoying life.

Finally, like all good things, it ended, and it was time to move on. Xena and Gabrielle walked with Hercules and Iolaus for most of the morning, until they came to a crossroads that marked the divergence of their paths. They exchanged hugs, and wishes to stay well, then headed in their respective directions, the women west and the men south. It was a bright, clear day, the heat of the sun muted by the constancy of a refreshing breeze that carried the scent of the pines from the snowcrested mountains in the west and north.

Relaxed, cheerful, Xena and Gabrielle weren't thinking about the hazards of the long, isolated roads of Greece. Her shoulder still quite painful and stiff, her arm well bound across her chest, Xena listened with quite amusement to Gabrielle's cheerful monologue about the fun they'd had back at the festival, hearing the timber of admiration Gabrielle did not know gave her away whenever she just happened to mention yet something else about Iolaus, and how wonderful and amazing he was.

Looking up at the sky, listening to the birds and her friend's voice, letting the peace of the day wash over her, Xena once again reflected on the guilt she carried about Iolaus…about how she had used and betrayed him. About how badly she had hurt him, not once but twice. He'd not trusted her when they'd first encountered one another again after her disastrous seduction, her merciless use of his vulnerability and decency. Nor could she blame him. Inside, her self-disgust gnawed at her. But, as they'd battled together, his distrust had eased, and they'd found a kind of alliance against her former band of cutthroats. But, it had been fragile at best. She remembered the look in his eyes when he'd caught her with Hercules…the disbelief and pain, quickly shuttered. He'd made no comment then or since, had hidden whatever he might have been feeling the next time they'd met, on the quest to free Prometheus. Neither by word nor gesture had he conveyed any sanction, revealed any hard feelings. They'd not been close during that adventure, and she'd been irritated to learn he'd concealed an injury that could have been fatal. Always so noble. Gods…she'd wanted to shake him, castigate him for the innocent and unconscious selflessness that only, always, underscored her own ruthlessness.

And, again, during these last few days, he'd laughed and joked about that…time with Hercules. No censure. No bitterness. A forgiving spirit. Xena frowned, irritated all over again. He should hate her. Why didn't he hate her? Up on that mountain, he'd been prepared to die to save Hercules and the gods, only stopping when he realized he didn't have the right to be so cavalier with his own life, that another would also die. So, he'd fought an impossible foe, had held onto whatever was left inside his broken body with his courage and indomitable strength of heart, to save the many without risking the one who was defenceless…that other Iolaus in a realm beyond imagining.

Shaking her head, she realized that she did not know Iolaus, not really. For all the time she'd spent with him, fighting beside him, taking him into her bed, she'd never made any effort to know him. At first, she'd just quietly and smugly despised him, later she'd felt guilt and embarrassment around him. They'd found a measure of comfort, of mutual respect, that allowed the thin veneer of friendship to form. But, she didn't know him…or understand him. Gazing at Gabrielle, smiling unconsciously at her friend, she reflected that the two blond friends had a great deal in common, what with their forgiving hearts and heartstopping courage, their innate decency and compassion. Sighing, Xena gazed at the ground as they walked along, Argo trailing behind, his reins in her hand. She'd been such a fool for so very long. Could she ever make it up? Could there ever be redemption for a soul as black as hers had been…and, in moments of furious rage, still was?

Lost in her thoughts, she was oblivious to their environment, dangerously so, only coming back to her senses when Gabrielle gasped, "Xena!"

Looking up, her expression hardened when she saw the men amble onto the road from the forests running along side and ahead of them. Her eyes darting from one side to the other, she spotted others…and assumed they were surrounded. A dozen, more or less. Hard, cruel eyes, leering lips. Not quite filthy, but rough. Mercenaries? Slavers? Wordlessly, she dropped the reins and drew her sword, then murmured to Gabrielle, "Mount Argo…now."

Seeing the sword, one of the men raised his hands as if to reassure her. "Now, now, no need for that, pretty lady," he drawled. "You're hurt…and we wouldn't want to do more damage unnecessarily. You and your sweet friend looked like you could use a little company…some strong men to protect you on these perilous roads."

Tilting her head up, Xena held her sword out in front of her, listening for sounds behind her, as she replied shortly, "Thanks, but we're fine. And, frankly, you don't look all that friendly."

Unhappy that Gabrielle had swiftly mounted the big stallion, a little disconcerted by the tall, leather-clad woman's apparent willingness to resist, the leader of the scruffy band shook his head, wanting to avoid damaging them any more than necessary. They'd bring a better price if they were in good condition. Besides, he thought, his eyes drifting over one and then the other, they'd be more fun later if they were in one piece. Not necessary that they be uninjured or even conscious, of course, but more entertaining. "Put your sword down and we won't hurt you," he directed, all trace of warmth or humour gone from his voice.

Xena smiled then, as she replied with the light of battle glinting in her eyes, "Back off and disappear…and we won't hurt you."

Gabrielle had been taking in the odds and didn't like them one bit. Twisting in the saddle, she saw three more men closing in behind them. Shooting a look back down at her friend, her face paled, knowing Xena couldn't hold them all off, not injured like she was. "Xena?" she called quietly, wondering how her friend wanted to handle this…knowing Xena wouldn't just give up.

"If they push…run," Xena growled low in her throat, her eyes roaming the enemy, waiting for them to make the first move.

"But…" Gabrielle tried to protest.

"DON'T ARGUE!" Xena snarled through clenched teeth. "Get help."

Gabrielle's head came up, understanding. Hercules and Iolaus couldn't be that far away. But, gods…to just leave. She looked wildly around at the men, her heart sinking.

Sensing her hesitation, Xena counseled, "They won't kill me…not right away, anyway. There's time."

Impatient, realizing the warrior woman would give no ground, the leader shook his head tightly, then signaled, calling, "Take them!"

Xena shouted, "GO!"

And, then it was chaos. The men rushed forward, weapons drawn, yelling with anticipated victory. Xena howled like a banshee as she whirled into action, her balance off because of her broken and bound right shoulder and arm, but undaunted, as she swept out with merciless strength and skill, slashing, wounding…killing. Argo screamed out in fury as Gabrielle pulled back hard on the reins, causing the great stallion to rise, hooves flashing out at their attackers, knocking several aside, causing others to leap away from her path. Kicking Argo, hauling on the reins, she turned her golden mount away and charged the men coming at them from behind, scattering them as the horse raced past, back down the dusty road.

Xena fought like a Fury, lunging and leaping, dipping and weaving, flipping up and over attackers, striking them down from behind. But, there were too many, and she'd known it from the beginning. Her only objective had been to buy Gabrielle time so that her friend, at least, could escape unharmed. It was enough. She felt the sting of a blade in her back, high on the right, jarring her already injured shoulder, sending a blinding wave of agony through her arm and chest. Gasping, she whirled to fight back, but another tripped her and she went down on one knee, still lashing out…until something hard clipped her behind the ear…and already unconscious, she ploughed into the ground to lie still and silent.

Panting, the men who still lived circled her, and one repeatedly kicked her viciously in the ribs until their leader pulled him back. "Disarm her," he ordered, "and tie her up…hands and feet. I'm not taking any more chances with this one. Stop the bleeding…I want her alive."

* * *

Racing flat out, Gabrielle reached the crossroads and hauled on the reins, pulling Argo onto the southern route. The stallion's hooves dug into the soft earth, not yet baked hard after all the rain from the days before. Gabrielle's hair was blown back from her face, her expression grim, her eyes dark with worry bordering on panic as they thundered along the road. She fought her fear for Xena, knowing it would do her friend no good to fall apart. She had to get to their friends so that they could go back for her, save her if she needed saving. She could hear nothing but the driving beat of Argo's hooves and the frantic pounding of her own heart.

Finally, she spotted them ahead. Ambling along, in no hurry, they'd not gone a great distance, thank the gods. She screamed out their names, "HERCULES! IOLAUS! WAIT!"

At the sound of her terrified voice, and the pounding of Argo's heavy hooves, the heroes turned, startled and alarmed to see Gabrielle bearing down upon them, then raced to meet her. Hauling on the reins, she pulled the great stallion to a halt, Argo dancing a little with impatience as she blurted, "Mercenaries attacked us…Xena needs help!"

"Show us!" Hercules demanded, and then they were all racing, back across the country to the west, abandoning the road, as Gabrielle led them across rolling fields, all of them leaping small bushes, low fences, then plunging with slightly more care through thick forests, until they arrived at the now empty western road. Hercules had paced her easily, but Iolaus arrived, panting a little, close behind them when they halted, unconsciously massaging his still aching ribs. Distracted, frantic, Gabrielle looked up and down the road, searching for landmarks, trying to remember exactly where they'd been.

Dropping to one knee, Iolaus examined the broken earth of the road, searching for fresh tracks, while Hercules reached up to lay a calming hand on Gabrielle's thigh. "Tell us what happened," he asked, his voice strong and steady, to regain her attention.

"We were just walking along…there were, I don't know, maybe ten or twelve of them…looked like mercenaries…tough, you know, and a couple of them were huge. Anyway, we hadn't been paying attention…they'd surrounded us before we knew they were there. Xena…Xena told me to run for help. I…didn't want…" Gabrielle's eyes brimmed with tears as her voice caught, desperately afraid for her friend.

"Easy," Hercules assured her, "You did the right thing." Turning he looked at Iolaus as he asked, "Any sign?"

Iolaus had wandered back along the roadway, his eyes scanning the ground. Some distance away, he again dropped to one knee, touching the ground then rubbing his fingers together. Frowning, he stood, looked around at other signs of blood scattered on the ground, and he spotted Gabrielle's staff lying to one side.

Picking up the staff, and jogging back to them, he handed her weapon up to blond Amazon bard as he said, "The fight was back there…you did good, Gabrielle, bringing us cross country to the right place. There's blood, and signs that a few bodies were lying in the dirt." Moving past them, frowning, he studied the ground as he explained further, "They must have horses of their own." Looking up at them, he pushed an agitated hand through his hair as he finished, "They continued on west, still on the road at this point. They can't be too far ahead."

"Right, well, let's go," Hercules replied, turning to lead them down the track, calling back over his shoulder, "Don't worry, Gabrielle…Xena's too tough to kill. We'll get her back." Swallowing hard, Gabrielle slid the staff into leather brackets on the side of the saddle and nodded, her hands gripping the reins so hard that her knuckles were white. Trying not to tremble, she kicked Argo gently, to signal they should follow the demigod.

Iolaus kept his eyes on the ground, and about a mile further on, he called out, "Hercules…they left the trail here." Branching into the forest, the others behind him, they continued to trail the mercenaries.

* * *

Now that they had her, the leader of the band of mercenaries wondered what they'd do with her. She was too violent to try to keep for long…they'd find no amusement with her. Gods, better to lie with a lioness than a Fury like her. Scowling, he thought bitterly of the men she'd cost him, both dead and wounded. By rights, he probably should have killed her and left her for the buzzards, but then the encounter would have been a total loss.

They had bound her and tossed her over the back of a horse like a sack of grain. Just before they mounted their own horses, one of his men had sidled over, to mutter, "Her friend called her Xena."

Gordo's head had snapped around to study his warrior. "Xena?" he'd repeated as the man nodded and spat into the trampled earth of the lane. The Warrior Princess. Gods, no wonder she'd cost them so dearly. Sighing, shaking his head, he'd mounted his horse thinking that sometimes the gods weren't kind. Why couldn't they have been priestesses or peasants…gods, Xena. Like he needed to do battle with her.

Leading his band further to the north, he puzzled over the dilemma. There had to be some profit in all this. And, then, it came to him. It had just been the annual festival to Zeus, and everyone knew that after that festival, Hera needed appeasing. Her vanity was always stung by the need to bow to her spouse, however symbolic it might have been. There was a temple to her, not more than twenty miles from here in the northern hills, ancient, almost overgrown, the original townsite long abandoned, only a small village remaining. But, there were still priests there…and they still held sacrifices. Nodding, he turned and led his band into the forest. Priests would pay well for such a prize…a warrior princess' blood would be certain to please their jealous goddess.

* * *

As they jogged through the forest, following the clear trail of more than a dozen horses, each held their own counsel, lost in their thoughts. Gabrielle was filled with guilt and foreboding, castigating herself for having turned and run away, leaving Xena to battle on her own. Disgusted with herself, she knew she hadn't really had a choice. She had learned a lot, but was still a long way from being a real warrior, like the blond partner of Hercules, who could more than hold his own. Iolaus was a real partner, in every sense of the word. She'd have been a hindrance, her time better used going for help. It might have been different if Xena hadn't have been injured. On her own, the Warrior Princess could have held off, even defeated, virtually all of that crowd of wannabe warriors, and Gabrielle could have done her bit with her staff, handling a couple, maybe three. But, with Xena's shoulder so badly damaged, her loss of the use of her right arm, there was no way…and they both would have been captured. No, she'd done the right thing and her mind told her that, told her not to feel so guilty and useless.

But, her heart wasn't paying any attention to her mind.

Hercules struggled with the teeming emotions that swirled within him. Part of him cared deeply for Xena, remembered her touch, the wonder of being with her. Part of him admired her for the way she'd turned her life around, for the good she was now doing. And, part of him was wary of her, for her effect upon him, for what she had done to Iolaus and how that still haunted his friend, though his buddy never admitted it. He'd never wasted a lot of time worrying about her, confident that she knew how to take care of herself, handle whatever the Fates might throw at her. But, this time, she was injured and captured by ruthless men. This time, the fire and valour of her own heart wouldn't be enough to contend with the odds against her. It was a strange feeling, to be worried about her. It clutched at his heart, made his breath catch in his throat. Gods, if they'd hurt her…. But, he thrust that thought aside. If the outlaws had wanted to kill her, they would have found her body.

Looking ahead at Iolaus, Hercules wondered about the blood his buddy had found at the place where the battle had been fought. Whose blood? Iolaus hadn't said, but he'd looked worried. Hercules figured his partner hadn't wanted to alarm Gabrielle, or add to her worries, but Hercules hadn't been fooled. Xena had been wounded, and now he wondered how badly she'd been hurt. How far ahead were they? How long would it take to get her back? How much time did she have?

His jaw was taught, his eyes dark with anxiety as he followed Iolaus through the dark forest, knowing time was running away from them. It was midafternoon already and this time of year, the darkness came early. Would they find her by nightfall? Dammit. She had to be all right. She had to be.

Iolaus moved quickly, knowing from the freshness of the tracks that they weren't more than an hour behind, maybe less. Hercules had realized what he'd found…he'd been able to see the awareness in his partner's eyes, and he regretted the pain there, the sick fear that Xena had been hurt. Though they'd sorted out what had happened, and what it had meant to their own friendship, Iolaus knew that Hercules still cared for the Warrior Princess…and, much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, so did he. So, Iolaus was also contending with fear for her wellbeing, with the ache of knowing she'd never love him like he'd once believed she had, with self-disgust for still caring, and worry for both Hercules and Gabrielle if they didn't get to her on time to save her.

Shaking his head, swallowing hard, he fought to steady his breathing. Xena was invincible, the Warrior Princess. A handful of mercenaries couldn't defeat her…but they'd taken her. Already injured by the Sovereign, he knew she'd been wounded and there had been a fair amount of blood in the place where the tracks indicated her body had been lying. Why had they taken her? Where were they going? Looking ahead, Iolaus tried to remember this part of Greece. They hadn't spent a lot of time this far north. Was there a warlord in the hills who would pay dearly to have her as his captive? Gods, they had to catch up before the odds got worse.

Pushing back his own confused feelings, he focused on the task at hand. Following the tracks, moving with speed and silence through the forest, he pushed ahead of the others so that he could warn them to silence as well if need be once they got close. They'd find her, they'd be on time. It was his job to make sure of it and he had no intention of failing. Whatever it cost, he'd do what it took to get Xena away from them…for Gabrielle…and for Hercules.

And, for himself. Because, for all that had happened, for all the pain her memory caused him, he couldn't imagine the world without Xena in it, somewhere.

* * *

It was just very late in the afternoon, the sun slanting through the trees, creating a kaleidoscope of light and shadow as the band of mercenaries exited the trees into the clearing around the small settlement that supported the looming dark temple of moss covered ancient stone. Xena had roused some time before, and wished wistfully that she could have remained unconscious. They had pulled her right arm from its bindings to tie her wrists securely, and she could tell her ankles were bound as well. The bones of her shoulder had been pulled out of alignment and they tore and ground together as the horse cantered, sending bolts of agony through her body with every step. She wasn't sure what had happened to her ribs, but they felt badly battered, so much so that it hurt to breathe. The pain from the wound in the back of her shoulder blended with the rest until it was all just a torment that made her gut roil with nausea. Lightheaded from pain and loss of blood, it didn't help to be riding with her head down along the side of the horse, strapped to its back like a sack of supplies. Vaguely, she wondered where they were taking her, wasn't sure she cared.

At least Gabrielle had gotten away. She'd have caught up with Hercules and Iolaus. They'd be coming for her. Gritting her teeth, drawing deep from her well of angry determination and grim strength of will, she held on. This agony wouldn't go on forever, nothing ever did. She just had to hold on until things got better…and she got the chance to fight back.

Nevertheless, it was with a sense of relief that she realized they'd arrived wherever they were going and the horse stopped its uneven motion through the forest. Biting back the gasp of pain as she tilted her head a little to see where they were, she found her view blocked by other horses and the legs of the mercenaries who surrounded her. Sagging limply, she decided to play possum until she could figure out what was going on.

Gordo had pulled up in front of the temple and dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to one of his men. Striding into the temple, he hailed a priest and sent for the one in charge. Pacing while he waited, he took note of the dark, candlelit interior. Gods, what a depressing place. There were no windows, just unrelieved ancient stone with carvings and markings of Hera and her symbols. Thick pillars supported the heavy, buttressed roof and up toward the front of the hall was a massive marble altar, stained with dark streaks and splotches of what he assumed was dried blood. Sickened, he looked away. Gordo was a warrior, who killed freely, but cleanly, in battle. He had no time for the cowardly killing done by priests of victims chained and helpless, all for the glory of a goddess who was more than capable of doing her own killing.

Still, this was business. He and his men had to live. In the uncertain and violent society of Greece, a mercenary could make a decent living…better than the peasants, anyway. But, it had been festival time and the pickings had been few and far between. They were hungry for more than just the food they could hunt in the forests. And, the bitch had killed two of his men, wounding several others. He owed her nothing.

Looking up, he saw the high priest coming toward him. Straightening his shoulders, he prepared for the bargaining that was to come.

* * *

They'd made good time. As they approached the clearing, Iolaus heard the murmur of voices, and the jangle of the livery of the horses. Holding up one hand, he signaled that the others were to wait, remain silent, while he scouted ahead. Hercules laid a hand on Argo's halter, drawing the horse to a halt, while Gabrielle sat up straighter, her eyes wide with fear for Xena, alert to danger.

Creeping silently to the edge of the treeline, Iolaus paused when he made out the small, dilapidated cottages of the tiny village around the base of the temple, frowning as he studied the tableau in front of him. He could make out the mercenaries, and saw Xena slung over the back of one of the horses. There were a few villagers wandering about on their own business, keeping a wary distance from the dangerous looking men. As he watched, he saw another mercenary come out of the temple, jiggling a sack of silver in his hand, a satisfied look on his face. There were several priests with him, and together they strode toward Xena. As Iolaus watched, they pulled her from the back of the horse. She was limp, unresponsive, bound hand and foot, and they had to carry her into the temple.

The mercenary mounted his horse, and called to his men to move out. Their business there was done.

Iolaus looked back at the temple for a moment, studying the weathered statue of the goddess at its entry, a cold feeling settling in his stomach, then he turned to rejoin his friends.

"Okay, we're here," he said quietly, looking from Hercules to Gabrielle and then back to his friend. "The mercenaries have sold her to the priests of the temple in the clearing and have ridden off. Herc…it's a temple to Hera."

His buddy stiffened, and he heard a low moan escape Gabrielle's lips, knowing that of all the possible gods and goddesses they might have to contend with, Hera was the worst. Iolaus unbuckled his sword and handed it up to Gabrielle, as he explained what he intended to do. "I'm going in…I'll steal a cape or cloak from one of the villagers, and pretend to be a wandering peasant, pausing to pay his respects to Hera. Once I'm inside, give me a few minutes to locate Xena, then create a disturbance to draw the priests out to the front of the temple. There'll be a back exit of some kind. I'll sneak her out that way, and we'll hide in the trees on the other side. If she's strong enough, we'll circle around back here. If we're not back in half an hour or so, come looking for us. I'll move us back, away from the settlement as far as I can manage. Okay?"

Hercules frowned as he thought about Iolaus' proposed strategy. His partner didn't have to spell it all out. They'd sold Xena as a sacrificial victim to Hera's minions. Familiar with the rituals and traditions of Hera's followers, they both knew that once the night had fully fallen, the priests would stage their ceremony and it would be too late. They didn't have much time.

"Maybe we should all go in," the demigod countered, not liking the idea of his friend braving Hera's precincts on his own.

Iolaus chewed his lip as he considered the suggestion, then shook his head. "It's a big temple, Herc, likely with lots of priests. And, well, Hera's priests know how to fight. Xena's hurt, and we can't take all of them on and still carry her out of there, without risking her life. I can manage to carry her, if need be, but I can't hold them all off. You're too big…you'd make them wary if you tried to masquerade as a peasant. Besides, you're better at creating loud distractions than I am." Iolaus didn't say more, but his eyes shifted to Gabrielle and Hercules got the message. Too many people to safeguard and not much time.

Reluctantly, the demigod nodded. Iolaus flashed them both a brief, confident smile, then faded into the growing shadows, intent upon finding a cloak and then quietly storming Hera's temple, to rob her of her latest intended victim. Turning to Gabrielle, Hercules said quietly, "I want you to stay here, with Argo…if the bad guys come storming this way, stay out of their clutches…you can outrun them and then circle back later. Alright?"

Gabrielle looked down at him, frustration and the desire to stay and fight with him clear in her eyes. She knew he was protecting her, just like Xena was always protecting her. And she hated it. "I'm not useless, you know…I can fight," she replied with all the hauteur of an Amazon Queen, her eyes flashing with the insult of forever being set aside.

Hercules patted Argo as he looked up at her, understanding the thoughts and feelings he'd seen mirrored in her expressive face. "I know you can," he replied quietly, "but we have no idea of how many there are. If they circle around, they could take Argo, and we might need him to carry her if she's hurt badly…besides, Xena wouldn't like it if we lost her horse!"

Gabrielle sighed as she looked down at him through narrowed eyes. Finally, her lips thin with discontent, she nodded. Hercules gave her a quick smile of understanding, then he turned and loped to the edge of the clearing, to watch for Iolaus and to plan his own attack.

* * *

They dumped her unceremoniously on the altar, not bothering to loosen her bindings or fit her wrists and ankles into the iron clamps on the altar. She was evidently sorely injured and unconscious. They had no fear of her trying to escape while they made their preparations. With a sense of exaltation, they set about readying the temple, lighting more candles, and drawing the sacred, sacrificial dagger from its chest, laying it on a narrow ledge behind the altar. A low murmured chanting began as they lit the incense, beginning the prayers to Hera, Queen of the Gods.

All day, they'd been downcast, thinking they'd not have a suitable sacrifice for the goddess they worshiped, having to again rely upon a lamb or goat, hoping the paltry offering would appease their jealous and demanding goddess. But the mercenaries had been the answer to their prayers. The Warrior Princess, strong and bold, with the heart of a lion and the soul of a dauntless fighter, was the perfect sacrifice for Hera on this night…this night when her rage simmered from having to bow to Zeus, acknowledging his mastery over her. The chanting grew louder as they waited for the dark of night to fall.

Xena's eyes slitted as she took in the surroundings and realized what was about to happen. Watching from the corner of her eye, she counted the priests and sighed softly. At least thirty of them. Too many to defeat…but, not too many to hurt. If they thought she was just going to lie here quietly and let them kill her, they had a surprise waiting for them. She might not escape, she might not even survive, but she'd be damned if she wouldn't go down fighting. Sighing, she reflected that all she had to do was figure out how to loosen the bindings around her wrists and feet. Unobtrusively, she hoped, she began to stretch them, ignoring the flashes of agony from her shoulder, ribs and back.

Initially, she hardly noticed the small cowled peasant who wandered into the sanctuary, keeping to the shadows as he moved silently around the edge of the hall. He bowed his head to the priests he met, exchanging a few whispered words, evidently pleading for the opportunity to observe this ritual to the great glory of Hera. The priest nodded, and the peasant bobbed in gratitude, then turned away to bow deeply before a statue of the goddess. Once the priest had moved off, the peasant turned, seemed to look about furtively, then continued his slow, measured tour of the hall, coming ever closer to the altar end of the sanctuary. Slipping from shadow to shadow, it would have been easy to overlook him, to forget he was there. Intrigued by his silent, almost covert progress, Xena watched, a slight cold smile tilting the corner of her mouth. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing, concentrated on pushing the pain back and away.

It was about to get interesting and she didn't have the time to worry about pain. There would be time to consider her injuries later.

* * *

Ares wasn't happy, not happy at all. Bad enough that he'd had to suffer the humiliation with the others of being locked inside the Vaults of Heaven, trapped for no one could know how long. Worse, that he'd had to actually cooperate with his loathed half-brother on their efforts to break out of the place. As if that wasn't enough, he and the others owed that scrawny runt that clung to Hercules like a shadow for having saved them. Shaking his head, Ares sighed when he remembered what the small warrior had risked for them…not that he cared much about what happened to the gods, but Iolaus had been deeply concerned about the havoc the Sovereign would have wreaked upon the world, and he'd known he needed the gods to defeat Hercules' evil twin. Still, Iolaus had freed them…and for that, something was owed, sometime, Ares reflected… unless he could conveniently forget.

But, worst of all, was the fact that Xena was the next intended sacrifice at Hera's motheaten temple in the back of beyond. He'd been with Hera when the word had come, jubilant prayers from the High Priest. His mother had preened about the glory of it all, such a suitable sacrifice in her honour, just the thing to take the bad taste of the party in Zeus' honour out of her mouth. Gloated even, not bothering to hide her awareness that Xena meant something special to Ares, but now the Warrior Princess belonged to her, to do with as she chose. Cold with fury, almost incandescent with his rage when she'd just laughed at him, Ares had zapped back to his own temple, unable to endure her crowing any longer.

Dammit. Ares hadn't given up on winning Xena back. There was such fury in her heart, so much darkness still haunting her soul. She was exciting, in so very many ways besides being a warrior, a great warrior, and she belonged to him, whether she wanted to or not. The God of War did not give up his prizes lightly…and he prized Xena, for any number of reasons. But, he couldn't go up against his mother, not directly…Hera's priests had bought and paid for the sacrifice…she had a right, much as he hated to admit it

It aggravated him to no end to think he'd have to just stand back and watch one of his best sacrificed to make the bitch feel better about her choice of husbands. Ares might side with his mother against Zeus, but that didn't mean there was any love lost between them. He hated her, just as he hated most of them. Useless, drunk with their own vanity. There was little honour in any of their beings…what good did honour do a god? But, war had taught Ares there was more than wanton destruction, more than vanity, in the noble struggle for victory and glory. War was complicated, good and bad, grim and transcendent, love and hate, cowardice and courage…he'd watched the mortals who did battle and learned. And, in learning, he'd come to despise the lethargy and sybaritic wastefulness of the Olympians. They all mocked him if he showed respect or concern for the mortals who won his favour, but many of those mortals were individually worth more to him than most of the Olympians put together. Nevertheless, Ares fought his own sympathy for the fragile creatures. Worked hard not to like them. They died, damn them. And, he hated to lose the good ones, though he knew it was inevitable. So, he buried the sympathy, the respect…even the love.

But, that didn't mean it didn't infuriate him to lose one of his best to such an ignoble purpose. Stalking toward his throne, he slumped into it and gazed down into the pooled water in the urn by its side, gazing with dismay at the bound and helpless Warrior Princess, wondering if there was any way to stop this abomination from occurring. He chewed his lip, then frowned, realizing something had taken Xena's attention, realizing she was preparing to resist…and was hiding a smile. Something was going on. Waving his hand to widen the view to the whole of the temple and then its environs, he searched for what she had seen. Sharp eyes picked out the furtive movements of the bowed, inconsequential peasant and he frowned thoughtfully, but when he spotted the shadowed form of the demigod at the edge of the forest, he sat up straighter as a slow, delighted grin spread across his face.

This was about to get interesting…maybe even amusing.

* * *

The chanting from the ancient temple below echoed through the vaulted spaces of her temple on Olympus as Hera sat back on her throne, watching the images of her priests dance in the air before her eyes. Feeling a good deal of satisfaction, smiling in anticipation of the sacrifice, Hera leaned back against her throne.

Ready.

Waiting for her glory to be worshipped in a fitting manner.

* * *

Iolaus reached the end of the sanctuary, still lurking in the shadows. He caught Xena's eye and grinned when she winked at him. Good. She was alert and ready. Squatting, he studied the back of the hall, finally spotting the door cut into the stone on the far side of the altar, almost invisible behind a pillar. He lifted one hand out of the folds of his cloak, holding it close to his body to make a palm out signal to her to wait. Then he swiveled a little, to watch the priests as they bowed and paraded around the hall, chanting ever louder, working themselves up to a fine little frenzy of bloodlust.

Waiting.

When the ear-shattering crash echoed from the front of the temple, Iolaus grinned wickedly, thinking that the old weathered statue of Hera that had once stood before the entrance had been long overdue for destruction anyway. Shocked, the priests paused in their actions, then, as one, they turned to race to the entryway, pushing against one another to get outside to determine who had dared assault the sacred temple of Hera.

As soon as they were moving, he was up and loping to the altar. With barely a pause, he scooped Xena into his arms, then bolted for the back door, shoving it open with his shoulder, then dashing into the night.

* * *

Hera screamed in rage!

Lunging from her throne, eyes flashing, she watched as first the despicable get of Zeus destroyed her statue, then was scarcely able to credit the sight of a scruffy peasant stealing away her sacrifice.

Furious, she howled vengeance and zapped from Olympus to the temple in the forests to the west.

* * *

Ares laughed, great guffaws bursting from his lips as he doubled over in delight, pounding the arm of his throne. Brilliant. Simple. Straightforward. Brilliant. Wiping his eyes, he grinned with evil delight as he imagined his mother's fury, then leaned back to watch more of the action unfold.

* * *

Having tumbled the statue onto the marble paving, shattering it into a thousand pieces, Hercules had immediately turned to exert all of his strength against one of the massive pillars holding up the portico of the temple, loosening it, then shoving it away just as the first of the priests burst from inside the sanctuary.

Darting back from the precariously tilted roof of the entry way, he smashed the first priest in the face, then spun and kicked out at the next two, sending them flying to the side. Three more came at him, and he continued spinning, one arm rigidly held out to the side, a whirling battering ram which clipped each of them in turn, knocking them senseless.

Not understanding what was happening, peasants from the small village scattered, running to find shelter and safety until this madness was over. They yelled out in consternation, and fright, calling to children, scooping them up as they raced toward their homes, or to the forest to hide.

The portico's stone roof collapsed with a resounding crash, scattering chips and blocks of marble, creating a cloud of dust that rose to block his view of the destruction. Several priests were caught, screaming, under the collapsing stone, trapped and crushed by it. Others, behind them, were thrown into confusion, falling back upon one another, tripping and falling in their haste to evade death.

Hercules, having dealt with the priests who had made good their exit from the temple, faded back into the shadows, watching to see if others would follow.

Hera flashed into the temple, screeching for attention. Several of the priests whirled and fell to their knees before her terrible majesty, confused and afraid.

Behind the temple, just inside the edge of the trees, Iolaus had acceded to Xena's growled demands that he put her down. Shrugging the cloak off his shoulders, he pulling his knife from his boot and slashed her bindings, freeing her, but there was no time to examine the extent of her injuries. He helped her stand, but her legs, numb from having been bound so long, wobbled and she almost fell, grunting with frustration and disgust at her own weakness.

"Get up, you fools!" Hera screamed at the priests, beside herself with fury. Pointing to the altar end of the temple, she roared, "She's escaped! Go after them!"

Not needing to be told twice, the priests scrambled to their feet and plunged across the vaulted hall, one having the foresight to gather up the sacrificial dagger. Pushing their way out the narrow doorway, one howled in fury, seeing Iolaus help steady the wounded Warrior Princess. Iolaus' head whipped around and he took in the threat, bending, he lifted Xena into his arms to race into the forest.

The priest with the dagger felt a sudden inspiration to throw it…and it blazed across the small clearing, as if born by invisible wings, curving around obstacles, intent upon its target.

Watching, his eyes wide, Ares snapped his fingers and caused Iolaus to stumble…but it wasn't quite enough to fully evade the blade driven by Hera's power and determination for blood.

Instead of impaling his heart, the knife buried itself deep in his right side. Iolaus grunted at the sudden impact, but there was as yet no pain. Lurching to regain his balance, he bore the Warrior Princess deep into the dark shadows of the forest, running as fast as he could to put as much distance between those who pursued them as possible. In minutes, the forest had swallowed them, the darkness hiding them, frustrating and maddening the priests who had charged into the trees behind them, forcing them to come to a halt. They searched the ground for sign, but it was too dark.

Shuddering with dread, they turned back to face the black fury of their goddess. She had been prepared for a sacrifice and would demand one. Looking at one another, they wondered if she'd be satisfied with only one after this disaster. Some, resigned, headed back to the temple to face her wrath. But, others, less brave perhaps, or more hopeful of a better fate, set off into the forest to try to recapture the Warrior Princess and to kill the peasant who had dared to steal her from them…from their goddess.

* * *

Hercules had ducked back into the cover of the trees once he judged he'd done enough to give Iolaus time to get Xena out the back. But, as the screams of the enraged goddess pierced the air, he froze and turned back. "Iolaus…" he whispered, a hollow feeling of dread filling him. They hadn't thought she'd intervene personally.

They should have known better.

He turned and ran back to Gabrielle, catching at Argo's bridle as he looked up at her. "What's happened?" she whispered, her voice taut with fear, but not for herself. "That scream…."

"Hera," Hercules intervened abruptly. "She's here."

"Oh no," murmured Gabrielle, all colour fading from her face, her eyes wide and dark with alarm. "What are we going to do?"

"We're not going to panic," Hercules reassured her, reaching for a calm he didn't feel. "Iolaus and Xena are both resourceful and can handle themselves. He's expecting to find us here…we said we'd give him half an hour, and that's what you're going to do."

"I'm…? What are you going to do?" Gabrielle challenged, her shoulders settling into a stance that suggested she was getting heartily tired of being left to hold the fort while others fought the battle.

"You need to be here…I might miss them in the dark. I'm going to circle around, see if I can spot them…find out what's going on," he replied, patting Argo's neck, settling the stallion.

Gabrielle looked around the darkened forest, and bit her lower lip. Finally, she nodded. "Go," she said, her voice taut, "Find them, just…find them."

Nodding, Hercules turned and loped away, quickly disappearing into the night. Gabrielle swallowed hard, and blinked to clear her eyes of unwanted tears. Taking a deep breath, she searched the night, waiting… hoping that Hercules would find them.

Before Hera did.

* * *

Iolaus staggered as the pain hit, fought it, but knew he couldn't continue carrying Xena. Steadying himself, he lowered her to the ground. "Think you can stand on your own now?" he asked, his voice tight as he listened for sounds of pursuit.

She wobbled a bit, catching hold of his arm, but then nodded. "I can manage," she replied, determined, unwilling to give in to her own dizziness from loss of blood and the pain surging through her back, shoulder, arm and chest…or to the cramps in her legs. "Where are the others, Gabrielle and Hercules?"

"Back there," Iolaus replied shortly with a jerk of his head, panting a little from exertion and the pain, "in the forest on the other side of the temple. But, the priests are between us and them…and so is Hera. We need to keep going, find a place to hole up for a bit. That way…." He pointed north, through the forest into the hills.

Listening to the sounds of the men pursuing them, noting that neither of them had weapons and accepting that she was more hindrance than help just then, Xena nodded. The priests were all around them, closing in…they had no choice but to move deeper into the cover of the night.

"Go on," Iolaus instructed. "I'll be right behind you." Ignoring the pain radiating from his back and right side, he steadied her and kept close, reaching out to steady and support her when she stumbled. Holding her right arm across her chest with her left hand, trying to ignore the pain that blazed with each step, she moved out, grateful for his quiet, unobtrusive support, hating that she needed it.

Carefully, moving as fast as they could on the increasingly steep path, they forged on, drawing on their reserves of strength and determination, sharing a grim unwillingness to quit, to be defeated. Iolaus knew he should be trying to cover their back trail, and at first, he tried. But, when he bent to gather leaves to scatter over the trail they were leaving, pain ripped through him, bringing a surge of nausea and dizziness. Biting off a groan, he leaned against a tree for a moment to steady himself.

Xena, noticing the silence directly behind her, stopped and looked back. "Is something wrong?" she whispered tightly, her eyes searching the night behind them.

"No," he responded, straightening. Swallowing, he took a breath and moved up behind her, not wanting her to know about his own injury, not yet. There wasn't time to consider it, not until they found a place to hide. "I was just…checking. Keep going," he urged through gritted teeth. Gods, it was bad. He could feel himself weakening, but wouldn't give in.

She gave him a long look, sensing that something wasn't right, but he waved her on, so she turned and continued up the incline. Finally, they hit an area of rock and shale…harder to move in quietly, but guaranteed to obscure their trail. About an hour later, they came to a cave, almost missing its entry, so clogged was it by overgrowth.

"Xena!" Iolaus hissed as she moved past it. "To your left…."

Stumbling a little, she slowed and turned, then saw what he'd already noted. Sighing wearily, she nodded and turned to shoulder her way through the brush. Iolaus forced himself to gather sticks for a fire when it was light…they couldn't risk one now, lest it draw their pursuers to them. But, both of them were injured, bleeding…they had no other supplies, and only two knives for weapons. The one in his boot and the one in his back. They might need the fire to cauterize her wound, to stop the bleeding if it hadn't stopped on its own. He knew his own wouldn't bleed much so long as he left the dagger where it was.

Staggering a little, he followed her into the depths of the cave. It was pitch-black inside, but seemed dry and the air was a little stale as if it had been empty for a long time.

"Rest," he said hoarsely into the darkness. "Sleep if you can. I'll take the first watch."

Sagging onto his knees on the left side of the entrance, he leaned against the stone wall, trying to slow his breathing, grateful for the support of the rock. He heard Xena sigh as she settled onto the ground somewhere behind him. Holding his breath against the agony, he reached back gingerly to touch the knife in his back, but reconfirmed his decision to leave it where it was. He couldn't afford to remove it and maybe bleed to death if the wound hemorrhaged. Wearily, he hoped the internal bleeding wasn't too bad.

As he stared into the night, he wondered what the dawn would bring. Neither he nor Xena could go much farther, though he hoped she would be stronger by morning. If so, she might be able to get away on her own.

If not, he could only hope Hercules found them before the priests did.

* * *

Hercules circled wide of the temple, moving quietly, listening for the sounds of the men pursuing his friends. Several stumbled unawares into his path, and he made short work of silently rendering them unconscious.

But, in the darkness, he could find no trail. Hercules tried to tell himself that was a good thing. If he couldn't find Iolaus or Xena, then neither could the priests. Finally, reluctantly, he gave up the search and headed back to Gabrielle.

If Iolaus and Xena hadn't joined them by dawn, they'd search together.

* * *

Hera seethed with a deadly fury. Disgusted by the worthless priests and their pitiful whining for mercy, she turned away from them, striding across the clearing and looking up into the hills. They were up there somewhere…and she would find them.

* * *

Ares watched from his throne, rubbing his chin as he frowned and wondered what he could do to subvert his mother's desire for revenge. He knew her, recognized the lines of furious determination in her posture and expression, and knew she'd never give up. Both warriors were badly injured, he reflected, so they wouldn't be able to escape…eventually, she'd capture them. But Xena's injuries at least were not life threatening. If he could find a reason to prevent Hera from carrying out the sacrifice, he might still salvage something of this, might still find a way to save Xena.

He needed someone who knew the nuances of the rules that governed the actions of gods better than he did.

Deciding on his course of action, Ares zapped from sight.

* * *

Hercules and Gabrielle kept watch all through the long night, but in vain. Finally, as the first gray light of dawn began to filter through the forest, Hercules led the way around the temple to search for Iolaus' and Xena's trail.

* * *

Xena mumbled a little, moaned softly as she stirred and blinked awake. Disoriented for a moment, her eyes swept the small, barren chamber of rock, illuminated by the faint streaks of light filtering through the branches of the brush that grew across the cave's entrance. When she spotted Iolaus leaning wearily against the wall at the mouth of the cave, the memories snapped back.

Taking her time, biting back any further moans, blinking against the tears of pain that threatened to blind her, she pushed herself up and staggered towards him. "You should have woke me to take my watch," she complained mildly.

He didn't turn his head, remaining half concealed by the shadows as he replied softly, his voice a little breathy, "You needed…the rest." Swallowing to moisten his dry throat, he continued, "Do you think…you can go on…find Hercules and…Gabrielle?"

"Maybe," she temporized, her head cocked a little as she studied him, her eyes narrowed. His voice had sounded strange…strained. And, he was sitting oddly, almost curled into himself, one arm pressed tightly across his body. Moving closer, she looked down at him. "What's wrong?"

Iolaus looked up her with eyes glazed with pain and fever. "What isn't?" he asked, as he turned a little to sag onto the ground along the wall with a hiss of pain, his head toward the entrance to the cave.

Alarmed, she dropped down to one knee to grip his shoulder with her right hand. "Iolaus?"

"Knife," he sighed, fighting the pain, "in my back."

"WHAT?" she snapped, ignoring her own pain to lean forward. "Oh gods," she muttered when she saw the hilt of the sacrificial dagger. "When did this happen?"

"As we…left the clearing…" he grated, struggling to stay awake.

Shocked, she leaned back to stare into his face, gray with pain and the effects of the wound. He'd carried her…supported her all the way up the trail. Stood watch throughout the night.

"You should have told me," she accused, angry that he'd done this, suffered this, to help her.

He chuckled briefly in response, then gasped at the shaft of agony that shot through his back to his chest. Panting a little, he asked again, "Can you…make it back…to them?"

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Xena considered the question. She could feel fever in her own body and knew her strength was limited at best. Her right arm was useless, and she'd lost a fair amount of blood from the wound in her shoulder. Several ribs felt cracked and pulled every time she moved. Gods, she hated being hurt…being weak. It would take at least two hours to find a path to the far side of the temple, and they had no way of knowing if the priests were still searching for them, but the odds were that the forest was full of the determined little sycophants. Bitterly, she shook her head. "No…not on my own, not yet anyway," she replied tightly. Maybe she could, and maybe she couldn't, but she wasn't about to leave Iolaus here on his own, not in his condition.

"Then, they'll have to…find us," he muttered, his eyes closed. "Shouldn't take them long. Left a trail…a blind man could follow."

"That's not really comforting news," she stated dryly, thinking about the priests…and Hera.

He grinned then, his eyes dancing a little as he blinked and gazed up at her. "I know," he replied.

Unable to resist the bleak humour, she smiled a little in return. Shifting around in the narrow space, she moved to settle against the wall beside him, then helped him shift enough to rest his head in her lap. "Fine pair we make," she said, looking around at their bare shelter. "Warriors," she snorted in disgust. "Couldn't take a rabbit between us right now."

"Rabbit would…die of fright…at the thought of fighting…you," he whispered, trying to keep it light, but his eyes were heavy, and he knew he was beginning to drift. "Knife…in my boot. When you're able… take both knives…and go."

He felt her hand come down on his head, resting lightly, a comfort. "When we're ready, we'll both go," she replied quietly, an odd tone in her voice.

He shook his head weakly. "Don't think…I'll last…much longer," he murmured, resigned. The wound was bad, he knew it. He could taste blood in his throat and realized he'd been bleeding internally for most of the night. Slowly, to be sure…but it was killing him. He couldn't take deep breaths without risking a tearing cough and the world around him was beginning to fade. Despite the fever, he felt cold.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him back to wakefulness long enough to hear her words. "Don't you quit on me," she snarled. "Damn you…don't you dare die because of me."

When he didn't answer, she tugged a little at his hair, calling angrily, "Iolaus?"

But, there was no response. He lay limp and completely still, his breathing shallow. Brushing the hair back from the side of his fevered face, she bent forward to study his features, realizing he'd lost consciousness. Leaning her head back against the stone wall of the cave, she closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't want this, didn't want him to die because he'd taken the chance to rescue her. Dammit, she already owed him too much for the grief and pain she'd caused him. She didn't want to be burdened by his death, too.

* * *

One of the 'worthless' priests finally proved he might have some worth after all. He spotted the dried blood and the trampled vegetation, crying out to the others, drawing them to him. Excited, relieved, he pointed at the signs that led up through the forests to the north. Gratified, Hera appeared, stern, but approving. "You've earned yourself a reprieve from my justice. Now find them," she snarled.

Hastily, the priests scrambled up the faint trail, desperate to reclaim her good will.

Not far off, Hercules and Gabrielle had also heard the jubilant cry. Throwing one another a look of dismay that said it all, they too began to hasten up through the forest, determined to save their friends from Hera's bloodthirsty vengeance.

* * *

Ares had found that blustering and storming until he was blue in the face hadn't won any cooperation. So, fighting his own sense of urgency, he forced himself to calm and appealed to reason.

He should have tried that in the first place.

She didn't like to be ordered about, didn't respond well to demands. But, she conceded he had a point. Thinking about it for a few moments, she nodded…there was perhaps one stratagem that might work. She questioned him closely about the details of what had occurred, then nodded again thoughtfully. Standing away from her own throne, she announced, "It's time we saw Zeus."

Relieved, Ares nodded his agreement as he and Athena flashed to their father's temple.

* * *

Xena heard the crashing of many feet through the forest growth and stiffened. Taking a breath, she reached down along Iolaus' body to pull his knife from his boot. Then, easing away from him, she pulled herself to her feet, to stand between him and the entrance to the cave.

Waiting.

Resolved to fight them off for as long as she could.

* * *

When they heard the excited exclamation of success, Hercules and Gabrielle knew the others had located Iolaus and Xena.

"Stay here!" ordered Hercules as, without a backward glance, he tore through the intervening forest at the priests who threatened his friends.

Gabrielle watched him go, already reaching for the staff and sliding from Argo's back. "In your dreams," she mumbled to herself, her expression grim and determined as she followed him into the fray.

The two parties arrived at the location of the cave at the same time. With a roar, Hercules launched himself at the priests, scattering them as he grabbed two and threw them high over the tops of the trees. Gabrielle weighed in with her staff, jabbing it into one priest hard enough to wind him, then whirling and bringing it around to connect solidly against the head of another. Turning, she tripped another who was trying to circle around Hercules and thumped him hard on the back, keeping him down. Argo, not to be left out, charged in like a demon possessed, flailing the enemy with his hooves, stampeding them away.

Letting them fight it out, Hera flashed into the cave itself and smiled coldly when she saw Xena poised there, ready to fight but helpless before her divine powers. With disdain, she flicked a wrist and a small blast of power broke Xena's grip on the blade, wringing a startled, angry cry from her lips as it clattered onto the stony floor.

"Fool," Hera drawled. "You thought you could escape me?"

Xena stood tall, her chin up and tight as she stared down the goddess, denying her the satisfaction of seeing fear or submission. She was about to answer, when Hercules dove into the cave, colliding with the goddess and sending her crashing back against the wall. Furious, she turned on him, while Xena scrambled to reclaim the knife. Hera sent a powerful burst of energy toward Hercules, but he dove away from it, rolling back to his feet, while Xena threw her knife at the goddess, hoping to wound even if killing Hera wasn't possible.

The knife halted in midair, then whirled back toward the Warrior Princess. She dropped, narrowly evading the blade, while Hercules charged toward his hated stepmother, only to be caught by a blast of energy that threw him back, stunned against the wall.

Unimpressed by their futile efforts to resist her, Hera turned her attention to the recumbent form of the hunter, lying defenceless before her. Raising her arm, she prepared to blast the man who'd dared to steal away her sacrifice, killing him for his blasphemy.

Too far away to stop her, Hercules screamed, "NO!" as, closer, Xena dove at her, to throw off her aim, only to find Hera had blinked to another position, leaving her sprawled awkwardly on the stone floor.

"ENOUGH!" roared Zeus, appearing in their midst, standing between Hera and her intended victim.

Affronted, furious, Hera seethed, "You have no right to interfere!"

"Don't I?" he replied, darkly. "We'll see about that." Turning toward Hercules, he commanded with a gesture at Iolaus, "Bring him." Then, turning to Xena, he waved her toward the cave entrance. "We're all going back to the temple to sort this out."

"I won't let you hurt them!" Hercules protested to his father.

"Silence!" Zeus commanded. "This is neither the time nor the place for discussion. Bring him."

Hercules and Xena exchanged glances. She shrugged then winced. It was futile to try to resist two gods with no weapons and no room to maneuver…even if she could resist effectively, which she couldn't with her injuries. Turning aside in frustration, she moved toward the cave entrance.

Hercules bit back his protests, wondering why Iolaus had remained still and silent throughout the confrontation, thinking at first that his partner had been momentarily stunned by an earlier blast of energy from the goddess, realizing suddenly that he should have revived by now. The realization brought a stab of fear and, now oblivious to everything else, he lunged to his friend's side, going down on one knee.

Xena said flatly, "Be careful, there's a knife in his back." Then, she turned and left the cave.

"What?" whispered Hercules, rapidly examining his buddy…sickened by the sight of the knife, and by the fever that rose in waves from his body. He looked up at his father, and was surprised to see a look of compassion in those stern eyes.

"You must hurry, Hercules, " Zeus said.

Hera was rigid with anger, but when Zeus turned back to her and gestured that she was to leave, she went. The King of the Gods disappeared, leaving Hercules alone in the cave with his sorely wounded friend.

His mouth dry with fear for his buddy's life, Hercules gently gathered Iolaus into his arms and stooped to leave the small cave. "Gods, Iolaus, injured again? So soon?" he muttered sardonically, trying to hold onto humour and the hope it brought. "What is it with you and the Fates? Don't any of you know what this does to me? I swear, sometimes, I think you secretly like being carried around, anything to be the centre of attention."

But, his face was strained and grim as he emerged from the cave. Outside, he saw Gabrielle help Xena up onto Argo's back. The priests had all disappeared.

"What's going on?" Gabrielle asked, then turned and saw Iolaus in Hercules' arms. "Oh no…what happened to him? Did Hera…?"

"He was struck by a knife, last night, as we escaped the temple," Xena explained, her voice tight with guilt.

Wordlessly, knowing there was no time for talk, Hercules turned and led the way down the hillside back to the temple below, moving as quickly as he dared. He didn't understand what was going on, but he did know that Iolaus needed a healer's attention, and soon. There was no time to try to escape, to find another village with the hope that they could find the help they needed. There was no choice but to head back down to the settlement, and hope they'd find a healer there.

When they came into the clearing, Zeus was waiting for them, giving them no chance to seek assistance from the villagers. Imperiously, he waved them toward the temple and ushered them into the dim sanctuary. "Lay him on the altar," the King of the Gods commanded.

"He needs help!" Hercules protested. Whatever Zeus wanted it could wait, he thought angrily as he strode past his father toward the far corner of the temple to the village beyond…only to find himself moving into the sanctuary's dimness. Startled, he paused a moment, then his lips thin with anger, he turned to head back out the low door…only to find himself approaching the altar.

"Are you done?" Zeus asked, with evident impatience. "Or do you want him to bleed to death while you're exercising your stubborn streak and your constant inclination to do the opposite of anything I request?"

Rigid with fury, Hercules stormed, "If he dies while you play your stupid games, so help me, I'll…"

"Hercules, you're wasting time he doesn't have," Zeus thundered, all pretenses to patience gone. "Do as I say."

His jaw tight with impotent fury, terrified for the life of his friend, Hercules pushed past Zeus to lay Iolaus on the altar, looking up in surprise to see Ares and Athena standing on the far side with Hera. What in Tartarus was going on?

Moving forward, ignoring them, he gently laid Iolaus on the altar…no sooner having done so when Hera flicked her wrist, twisting the blade brutally and pulling it from his body and back to her hand. Iolaus arced and groaned at the new agony as dark blood gushed from his wound.

"What have you done?" cried Hercules, slamming his hand down over the wound in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding.

Hera only smiled as she replied coolly, "I've taken back what's mine."

"What's…" Iolaus moaned, having been drawn back to consciousness by the pulsating waves of fire from the wound.

"Easy, Iolaus," Hercules responded, pulling off his shirt to form a crude pressure bandage. Then, he used one hand to lever himself up onto the altar as well, to take Iolaus into his arms, one hand pressing down hard on the wound, hoping to stem the bleeding, holding his friend up against his chest to help his buddy breathe.

Blearily, Iolaus looked around the vast, dimly lit hall, frowning in confusion when he saw all the gods, realizing where they were. "Xena?" he mumbled.

"Right behind us…she's alright," Hercules reassured him, looking up to see Gabrielle support Xena into the sanctuary. The two women moved to the altar, where Xena could lean against it for support, the four heroes now arrayed against the gods who faced them.

"Perhaps now you will explain yourself," Hera demanded haughtily of Zeus, ignoring the other gods.

Athena stepped forward, and at a curt nod from her father, she turned to face the Queen of the Gods. "We are here to challenge your right to carry out the sacrifice you demand."

"Pah, don't be ridiculous. None of you have the right to intervene," Hera scorned, crossing her arms.

"Would you just get on with this charade!" Hercules shouted, only too aware that his bunched up shirt was already sodden with blood. "Iolaus is bleeding to death."

Athena regarded him coolly before turning back to Hera. "State your claim."

Rolling her eyes, Hera gestured toward Xena. "My priests bought her as a sacrifice and had begun the ritual when that runt," she waved disparagingly at Iolaus, "stole her away when he," she glared at Hercules, "distracted my priests by attacking my temple. I demand my right of sacrifice and my right to punish those who disrupted it."

Athena cocked her brow at Hera, then turned to Ares. "You, I understand, were watching the proceedings. Tell us what you saw."

The God of War shrugged as if none of this really concerned him, but replied readily enough. "Xena had been laid upon the altar, wounded and unconscious. But, she had not been prepared for the sacrifice."

"That's ridiculous," Hera intervened, seething.

Athena turned back to her. "Was the sacrifice bound to the altar…were the chains in place and locked?"

Hera was about to respond, but hesitated, as Ares replied, "No, she had not been bound in the proper position, secured by the chains. There was no priest in attendance upon her. No prayers had been said over her body, no incantations. She was simply lying there when the priests left the sanctuary…"

"Because Hercules had attacked…" Hera cut in.

But, Ares ignored her, continuing, "so, since the ceremony had evidently ended and in the absence of any attention or apparent interest, Iolaus picked her up and carried her out. No one called out or attempted to stop him."

Turning to Zeus, Athena raised her arms, hands open. "It would seem there was no ceremony, no sacrifice had been initiated, so her removal was lawful."

"She was bought and paid for," snarled Hera, playing her trump card. "Mine to do with as I choose."

Ares stiffened, wondering if this was going to work after all. Hera had just made an important point, underscoring her rightful ownership of the sacrificial victim in question.

"Perhaps," Zeus temporized, conceding the point, continuing sarcastically, "However, having 'bought and paid' for her, it might have been prudent to have taken the proper measures to have retained possession of her." When Hera rolled her eyes, unconcerned with his contempt, he changed direction. He'd anticipated her possible argument, and had another angle of his own to try. Much would now depend upon Iolaus himself. Continuing sagely, he observed, "There is enough of a question of what occurred here to warrant scrutiny. However, there is also another matter impinging upon our judgment."

"What other matter?" Hera snapped, her eyes narrowed, wondering what he was up to.

"The matter of your debt to Iolaus for having freed you from the Vaults of Heaven. Had he not taken action at the risk of his own life, you could have been trapped there for eternity," Zeus lectured. "You owe him a debt in accordance with his risk…you owe him a life."

"That's ridiculous!" Hera stormed. "I owe him nothing!"

"You do, and the debt is undeniable. You have NO RIGHT of challenge. I command you…allow him a life of his choosing. NOW!" Zeus thundered.

Beyond fury, unable to refuse a direct command by the King of the Gods, she turned to the barely conscious man on the altar, snarling through clenched teeth, "Iolaus of Thebes, I owe you a life. What is your will?"

Iolaus had been struggling to follow the confusing discussion, not sure he understood what was going on. Panting a little, feeling Hercules' grip tighten around him, his eyes sought those of the King of the Gods. "Can she still…sacrifice Xena?" he gasped.

Nodding gravely, Zeus replied, "The sacrifice was paid for…she has the right to demand it be fulfilled."

Gabrielle whimpered quietly in dismay, but Xena gripped her arm, silencing her as the Warrior Princess straightened to face her fate, determined to fight…they might kill her, but it wouldn't be as a helpless sacrifice on that damned altar. Iolaus knew he was dying. This was his only chance. He had no real choice, and she accepted that without any sense of recrimination or regret.

"Xena," he whispered, still holding Zeus' gaze. "I choose…Xena's life."

"What? No!" the Warrior Princess gasped, whirling to face him. "You can't…gods, Iolaus…don't do this."

Zeus had nodded appreciatively and gave him a small smile as he gestured toward Xena. "So be it." With life came the gift of health, curing all of the Warrior Princess' injuries, but she was too angry, too unaccepting of what had just happened to even notice. Her eyes flashed with something like rage as she gazed at the dying hunter, unable to understand…why would he have chosen life for her? Gabrielle leaned against her, weak with gratitude, aching with sorrow at what Iolaus' choice meant for him.

Hercules had shuddered at his friend's words, wanting to call them back, knowing there was nothing he could do. He could feel Iolaus trembling weakly in his arms, could feel the hot blood pooling around them. His buddy only had moments left. Gods…he felt trapped. There was no time, no time to stop this insanity, to find a healer. But, Iolaus had entered their game freely, had made his choice…knowing full well what it would mean. Hercules felt a stab of anger that his buddy had chosen to leave him this way, but that was washed aside by the wave of desolation and loss that swept through him.

Iolaus' eyes drifted up to capture Hercules', the apology and request for understanding clear within his gaze. Hercules swallowed, blinked back his tears and nodded once, tightly. How could Hercules do less in the face of such selfless courage but acknowledge that, even in the midst of his own pain, Iolaus had made the only choice the hunter could have lived with, regardless of the cost? Iolaus would always choose another innocent life over his own. In the silence around them, oblivious to it, Hercules held his best friend's eyes, silently pouring out his love and his grief, his desperate desire that there could have been another way…his soul-wrenching sorrow that he was losing his best friend and could do nothing to help him.

Iolaus smiled a little to give the small consolation he had left, a wordless reassurance that Hercules would be all right, that he was at peace with his choice, then sighed softly as his eyes fluttered closed. Hercules drew Iolaus tight against his chest, bowing his head to rest on his friend's hair, struggling to hold back heartbroken sobs of despair. Iolaus laid a hand on his arm, gripping it weakly for a moment, then seemed to sag into himself as he lost consciousness, regretting sadly as he slipped away that another would share this fate, another soul in another dimension, his only consolation the thought that the other Iolaus might find death a welcome release.

"Iolaus," Hercules whispered then as a sob escaped his lips.

"No," moaned Gabrielle. Turning to Zeus, she cried, holding out her hands in a mute plea for mercy, "It's not right…"

"His choice," drawled Hera, deeply gratified to see Hercules' pain. It wasn't the sacrifice she'd wanted, but she wasn't displeased with the outcome. Drinking in the sight of the demigod's suffering, she didn't notice the God of War step forward.

"I, too, owe Iolaus a life for rescuing me from the Vaults of Heaven," Ares said quietly to Zeus, defying his mother, careless of her anger. "I wish to pay that debt now."

"So be it," intoned Zeus, wasting no time as he moved toward his son and the man dying in his arms. He rested his hand upon Iolaus' head as he intoned, "The debt acknowledged by Ares, God of War, is now paid."

Hercules' head jerked up, a look of incredulity in his eyes, and his lips trembled with understanding when his father simply smiled at him and backed away. Dragging in a breath of hope, Hercules bent his eyes to examine his partner, tears flowing freely down his face when he saw the natural colour, the even breathing. Pressing his eyes closed, bowing his head, he whispered a heartfelt, "Thank you."

But, Hera's eyes narrowed dangerously, blazing with impotent fury, as her chin came up and she glared at Zeus, then at Athena and finally at Ares, vowing darkly, "I won't forget this."

Ares shrugged, then smiled sardonically, actually enjoying himself. It wasn't often that he bested his mother and got his father to do it for him. "I doubt any of us will forget this, mother," he drawled, "nor do I expect that you'll ever understand it. Honour has never been a concept that has meant much to you."

His words, and the victorious look in his eyes, told her only too clearly that the story of how she'd lost her own 'bought and paid for' sacrifice would be all over Olympus in the very near future. Xena was his and she'd known it, but had tried to use a technicality to best him, to wrest away his rights to the Warrior Princess' fate. Hera should have known better than to take him on so directly, relishing her dominance over him…she would have been better to have castigated her priests for stupidity and sent the Warrior Princess on her way than to have played this game. To deny her the satisfaction of the runt's death, and Zeus' bastard's endless grief, had been icing on the cake.

The God of War smirked in triumph at his mother, the Queen.

Seething with fury, she flashed from view.

Hercules looked up then, first at his father, then his sister and Ares. "Why?" he asked, grateful but unable to understand why they would have intervened.

Athena and Zeus turned to Ares, the instigator of this little revolt against the authority of the Queen of the Gods.

The God of War turned his gaze on Xena and his head came up, his stance proud, as he explained, "I don't like my warriors to be sacrificed to a purpose less worthy than war. You are destined to die in battle, Xena, not on some cold stone slab." Turning his gaze to Iolaus, who was beginning to stir in Herc's arms, Ares continued almost off-handedly, "And I owed him a debt of honour for having saved my warrior from an ignoble death as a helpless sacrifice. By doing so, he earned the repayment of my earlier debt to him for having released us from the vault." Raising his gaze to Hercules, however, the fire in Ares' eyes burned cold as he said in a low, dangerous voice, "But, my debts are now fully paid…and I have never owed you anything. Remember that the next time we meet."

With that, the God of War disappeared from view, followed in short order by his sister and their father…their work now done.

"What happened?" Iolaus demanded as, surprised to find himself in one piece, he struggled up and away from Hercules' embrace.

Hercules looked at Gabrielle and Xena, then turned to Iolaus. Stunned, still hardly able to believe what had just occurred, he replied with a note of wonder in his voice, "Ares just saved your life."

"What?" exclaimed Iolaus, looking at each of them in turn. Gabrielle's bright smile lit the dark temple, her radiant joy filling the cavernous hall, driving back the evil within it. Xena held his eyes for a moment, her expression inscrutable, but her hard, brilliant blue eyes blazed with anger as she pulled her face away from him, then stalked out of the temple. Hercules looked at the blood soaking the back of Iolaus' vest, and that stained the demigod's hands and pooled thickly between them on the altar. Sickened by what had almost occurred here, he paled and looked away, swallowing hard to settle his breathing, to hold onto his pervasive sense of relief and gratitude, even if it was owed to Ares.

But, Iolaus' eyes had followed Xena, a puzzled, confused expression on his face. Gabrielle murmured quietly, "She doesn't understand why you did that for her…she's not used to being grateful to someone else for saving her life at the risk of his own."

Shifting his gaze back to Gabrielle, Iolaus nodded his understanding. For all her friendship with the gentle blond bard, Xena stood alone, facing and fighting her battles alone, asking no quarter, expecting no aid. Unwittingly, he'd touched the core of her well-hidden vulnerability…her loneliness, and her self-loathing belief that it was all she deserved. He didn't fully realize that the fact that it had been him who had done this for her had left her doubly shaken.

* * *

When they left the temple clearing, they traveled together back through the forest. Iolaus having missed what had transpired in the cave, and after he'd lost consciousness in the temple, wanted the details of all that had happened. Gabrielle and Hercules obliged, one effusively, the other with more sparing description, but Xena remained remote, her thoughts and feelings well hidden, locked inside. As the afternoon waned, they decided to make camp together that night, before continuing in their separate directions in the morning.

Iolaus headed off along a stream gurgling nearby to try his luck at catching their dinner, while Gabrielle scrounged for late berries and root vegetables. Hercules gathered wood for their fire and set up the camp while Xena brushed down Argo, her eyes frequently lifting to gaze toward the stream. Hercules felt her silent tension, but decided she had to find a way to work this out on her own.

Finally, she sighed and turned to look at him, kneeling by the fire, feeding it slowly with sticks and small broken branches. "Why did he do that?" she asked, her voice almost shaking with anger.

Hercules looked up at her, startled by her very evident hostility. Understanding very well what she meant, but not entirely sure why what had occurred had left her so furious, he thought about the question for a moment before answering. "I think you'll have to ask him that," he finally replied, deciding he didn't want to make this easy for her by replying that Iolaus would have made that choice for anyone. She'd only ever hurt his friend, badly…as he had, with her. She hadn't deserved the gift Iolaus had so freely given, and now she didn't even have the grace to be grateful for it.

Studying him, regretting the look of weary disgust on his face, for the first time she considered how he would have felt about Iolaus' decision, if Ares had not intervened to balance the books. "You would have hated me for it, if he'd died," she observed, her voice flat.

But, he shook his head at that. "No," he answered quietly, remembering the stab of rage he'd felt, "no, I might have hated him, if that could ever be possible, for choosing death, for choosing to give up everything we have, everything we do…but, I would not have hated you for the choice he'd made."

She stood with her head down a moment, biting her lip in indecision, then without a word, she set off toward the stream. She couldn't just walk away from this…she had to know, understand, why he had chosen her life over his own.

* * *

Iolaus had just dropped his line back into the water having finished wrapping his first catch of the evening in leaves to keep it fresh when he heard Xena approaching. Leaning back against the rock he was sitting against, he nodded and greeted her with a smile. But, the warmth of his welcome froze a little when he saw the grim expression on her face.

"Xena," he acknowledged her presence before looking away back into the lightly rushing waters of the stream, glinting bright under the slanted rays of the setting sun.

She stalked forward until she was practically looming over him. Standing with her hands on her hips, she demanded, her voice low and hard, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" Iolaus asked, looking back up at her, having to twist his neck a little, a quizzical expression on his face.

"You know 'what'!" she shot back. "Saved me from being Hera's sacrifice…saved my life instead of your own!"

Iolaus' brows rose under his tumbling blond curls, and he was about to shrug and tell her not to worry about it, when he read the dark pain in her eyes, her desperate need to know, to understand. There wasn't anger there, or cold hardness…only a kind of lost look, as if she was almost afraid of him.

Shaking his head a little, he replied quietly, "You didn't deserve what she had planned for you…I couldn't let that happen."

"Even at the cost of your own life?" Xena rasped, looking around in exasperation. "It was bad enough you'd been so badly wounded rescuing me in the first place, but that was an accident, bad luck. To choose…Iolaus, that was…just plain stupid. I gave you credit for more sense than that. You don't owe me anything, let alone your life."

Chuckling a little, amused rather than intimidated by her fury, Iolaus looked back at the water, flicking his line a little he replied dryly, "There's no need to get all sentimental about it, Xena. But, I accept your thanks…and you're welcome."

"I'm not thanking you," she snarled, going down on one knee to grip his shoulder, drawing his eyes back to hers. "I want to shake you! You had no right to do that! How could I have lived with…"

But, he cut in, losing his own temper. Gods, she was a self-righteous prig. As bad as Hercules in her own way. "I had every right…it was my life, my choice. If you can't live with that, tough," he stormed back, his voice hard, uncompromising.

She inhaled sharply, then retorted, "Your choice, right. Then, you should have made the right choice. Gods, Iolaus, you should hate me for what I've done to you…"

Not wanting to go there, Iolaus shook his head and looked away, pulling away from the hand on his shoulder, "Just leave it, okay…just let it go."

"Leave it? Leave it? I used you…seduced you and tried to turn you against Hercules. I set you up so that he would kill you. And, then, as if that wasn't enough, after I might have begun to win a bit of your trust back, I…Hercules…I…" she faltered, looking away, biting her lip, regretting he'd caught them, if not wholly regretting her time with the demigod.

Iolaus went rigid, bowing his head as he struggled with his own feelings, feelings he didn't want to think about or deal with, not with her. Ever since they'd won a fragile reconciliation, the two of them had avoided any discussion of what had once occurred between them. He'd never imagined that this conversation could have ever taken place…she was too proud, and perhaps too ashamed, as was he. But, now, she was demanding to know, to understand, how with all that between them, he could have made the decision he had made. Demanding to know why he didn't hate her.

Swallowing, he forced himself to reply, "Hate you?" He sighed, nodded a little, as he continued quietly, "I tried to hate you…I guess I did for a while. But, I hated myself more for betraying Herc, for letting myself believe you loved me. I didn't want to believe you'd changed when we met later…but, when you saved my life, when I saw how hard you were fighting to do the right thing, I knew Hercules was right. You had changed. And, well, when I found the two of you together…I…well, I'd really rather not talk about that."

"After all that," she murmured, staring at him, hearing the pain in his voice, "how could you possibly choose my life over your own. You were dying, Iolaus, you knew it. I don't understand you."

Looking up at the pink streaked evening sky, an infinitely sad look on his face, he replied softly, "No…you never did, ever, understand me. You never tried, never wanted to."

"Well, I want to now," she replied, almost caustically. "Talk to me, explain it to me."

"There's not much to explain," he said then, looking back at her briefly. "You're a good person, Xena, I couldn't…"

But, she snorted, cutting across his words. "Good person…hardly," she protested, shaking her head bitterly.

"Yes, a good person," he insisted. "There's a lot more good in you than evil, Xena, and you're trying so hard to make up for the terrible things you did out of pain and anger. You're strong, and courageous. You don't let anything stop you from doing what needs to be done…you're like Hercules that way…in a lot of ways. I couldn't let Hera try to destroy someone as vital and necessary as you are…oh, I know you and Hercules would have fought back, tried to stop her again. But, there were too many gods there…too many even for the two of you to overcome. Gods, Hera is too many. We can fight her, resist her, but no one can really stop her from doing what she wants, not if she's determined enough. She would have killed you."

When she didn't say anything, just bowed her head, her long dark hair hiding her face, he continued, striving to be as honest as he could be, "But, that wasn't the only reason. There are other reasons. Xena… part of me wanted to defy Hera, and save you because you're decent, sure. And, part of me needed to make that choice because…that part of me still loves you. But," he rushed on, turning away from her eyes when they flashed to his at that wretched confession, "mostly, it didn't matter that it was you at all. That's the part you don't understand, I guess. I…I couldn't ever let some other innocent soul die to save my own life. I couldn't ever live with that…I wouldn't want to. It could have been a stranger standing there, it wouldn't have mattered. I would have made the same choice."

She stared at him for a moment, speechless, then sank down on the ground beside him, her arms crossed over her upraised knees. "Gods, Iolaus, no wonder you make Hercules crazy sometimes. Don't you know what a choice like that does to him?"

Swallowing, sighing, Iolaus nodded unhappily. "Yeah," he said softly, "I know…but, my life just isn't worth more than someone else's. Besides, I know he can manage without me…he's Hercules, for the gods sake. Whether I'm with him or not, he does what he needs to do…he's proven that any number of times. I'm lucky to share a life with him, but we both know it can't go on forever. I am mortal. It's always been just a matter of time."

A frown played between her brows as she listened to him, thought about what he'd said. Turning to look at him, she replied softly, almost with a gentleness that was foreign to her, except when she was with Gabrielle, "You're so wrong. Your life…" she paused, her voice oddly strained, "the man you are…is worth so much. You talked about my courage a few minutes ago…about the 'goodness' inside of me. Iolaus…that's nothing compared to what's inside of you. You say I'm like Hercules…do you know how much you are like Gabrielle? Gentle, kind…so incredibly decent. The two of you scare me, sometimes, overwhelm me…you show me how much more I have yet to learn about being a good, brave, human being. And, you're wrong about Hercules, too. Gods, Iolaus…he needs you in order to be what and who he is. How can you not know that?"

Iolaus took a shuddering breath and sniffed, swiping at his nose with the back of his hand as he blinked. But, he just shook his head, refusing to look at her, refusing to accept her assessment of him, of his worth. Frowning at him, her eyes reflecting the struggle she was feeling inside, her sorrow for having hurt him so badly, she said finally, "Hera called me a fool, and she was right. I was a fool…to have been so blind to you, to who you are. I've never deserved your love." Her jaw tight, looking away, she finally said what she should have said long ago. "I'm sorry…"

Caught by her tone, he looked back at her, and saw tears glistening in her eyes, and as he watched, a single tear slipped past her lashes to slide slowly, unheeded, down her cheek. "Ah, Xena," he said softly, as he put an arm around her and drew her against him, "don't…it's over, long over. You were fighting for what you believed was right back then, however wrong you might have been. But, you have changed, and I know you'd never hurt anyone like that again. It's all right. Let it go."

The forgiveness and understanding in his voice, the strength of his comforting arm around her, disarmed her briefly. She leaned a moment into his arms, her face buried in his shoulder, to convey the sincerity of her apology…and to draw strength from him, until she could recapture her own. She didn't understand him, not completely, doubted she ever would though she found she wanted to. But, she finally did understand what had happened that day in the temple had more to do with who he was than about who she was, or about anything that had ever happened between them.

Raising her eyes to his, she stated quietly, "Okay…I get it. Maybe I even get you, a little. One day…if there's time, if you and I keep breathing long enough, I'd like to get you a little more." When one of his brows quirked up impishly under his careless curls, she realized how what she'd just said could be misinterpreted, and hastened to clarify, snapping, "Don't take that the wrong way."

Iolaus grinned at the disconcerted look on her face. "I wouldn't dare," he chuckled, but then the grin faded as he gazed at her, understanding it wasn't easy for her to acknowledge anyone could care about her, harder still for her to show any vulnerability. Iolaus recognized her stiff determination to be in control, understood what she was feeling…it was the same way he felt whenever emotions were too close to the surface, tears too ready to fall. They'd both learned the hard way to hide the hurt, to swallow the tears. "It's alright to cry, you know," he said then, with a trace of a smile, "even you don't have to be tough all the time."

She almost laughed at that, amazed at how well he knew her, when she hardly knew him at all. She looked into his eyes, saw the kindness and compassion, the acceptance of all she was, and shook her head. "I didn't love you then…I didn't know how to love anyone," she said tightly, but then she reached out to trace a delicate line along the side of his face, "I didn't deserve your love…I doubt I ever will. But…I'll try to be worthy of it."

He grinned and shook his head at that. "Lots of people love you, Xena…and lots more will, if you let them. Now, come on…the others will think we've fallen into the stream and been carried away to the sea. It's time we went back…I hope Gabrielle found lots of food, 'cause it doesn't look like I'm going to catch anymore fish tonight."

Standing, he reached down a hand to help her to her feet. Then, he wound his line and picked up the good-sized fish he'd caught. As they turned to head to the camp, she leaned forward and pressed a quick butterfly kiss to his cheek. "Thanks," she murmured, almost under her breath.

He threw her a startled look, then broke into a broad, almost embarrassed grin. "You're welcome. Any time."

* * *

The next morning, after they'd parted to head their separate ways, with hugs and wishes for good fortune mixed with directions to take care of themselves, Iolaus and Hercules ambled down the dusty road to the south. Hercules gazed at his best friend, wondering about the conversation he'd had with Xena the evening before. When they'd come back to the camp, Xena's eyes had still been red from the tears she'd blinked away. But, she'd seemed calmer somehow, more at peace than he'd ever seen her be before. Iolaus had been as cheerful as ever, grinning and exchanging stories with Gabrielle…but, then, he'd learned long ago not to completely trust the surface impression Iolaus gave to the world.

"You and Xena were at the stream a long time," Hercules ventured casually.

Iolaus nodded, but didn't respond, humming a little under his breath as they sauntered along.

"It looked like the two of you had worked a few things out," the demigod tried again, curious.

"Uh huh," was all Iolaus allowed. Looking up at the sky and around at the rolling, forested hills to the west, he continued quietly, "She'll be fine."

"And, you…are you 'fine'?" Hercules asked, more concerned about Iolaus than Xena.

His buddy turned and flashed him a grin as he nodded. "Yeah…I'm fine, too. I've told you before, Herc, I dealt with all that a long time ago."

"Just checking," Hercules replied as he looped an arm around his buddy's shoulders.

A few minutes later, having been musing over the events of the past week, Iolaus wondered aloud, "I still can't get over Zeus forcing Hera to offer me a life…gods, what a rush! That must've outraged her no end!" He giggled a little in his enjoyment of her discomfiture at such a command. "And, Ares…gods, who would have ever imagined he'd act to save my life! Wonders will never cease."

"Hmmm," was all Hercules responded, still a little amazed himself by that unbelievable gesture…and still grateful for it, however uncomfortable the feeling of having to be grateful to Ares made him.

Gazing up at Hercules, Iolaus mused, "So…do you think all the other gods who were trapped in the Vaults of Heaven figure they owe me a debt of life? Hades helped, Zeus made Hera offer to repay, Ares volunteered…how many gods were there, exactly? 'Cause, if it was all of them…." Iolaus looked away as he began counting them up in his mind, one finger absently pointing into the air as if he was ticking them off, one by one.

Hercules rolled his eyes and shook his head as he shoved Iolaus playfully away, down the lane ahead of him. "You have more good luck than anyone deserves, and the Fates must love you…but, I wouldn't push them, if I were you," he lectured, with a humorous, chiding voice, but his eyes weren't kidding. "Fortune can't be counted on, and you're good luck won't last forever."

Iolaus grinned, as he replied a little cockily. "Oh, it's not good luck," he said cheerfully. "It's my irresistible charm that holds Fortune and the Fates in thrall…that," he continued looking back at Hercules with an impish gleam in his eyes, "and the fact that I know the right people!"

The demigod snorted at that as he shook his head at his buddy's incorrigibility. "If you mean me, you need to remember that most of them don't like me much and feel no obligation to do any favours for me or anyone I care about. And, if you mean the gods themselves, well, no one knows better than the two of us that they can't be relied upon…ever."

Laughing, Iolaus turned back to face the road ahead. "Who needs them when I have you on my side? I'm not worried…I'll take my chances."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Hercules muttered under his breath, knowing that his buddy walked a very thin line every day of his life…walked it without fear or regard to his own wellbeing, careless and carefree, with humour and courage. But, the demigod forbore to make any further comment, to offer any further advice about not taking risks with his life knowing that his best friend would just shrug it off.

Iolaus didn't know how to be anyone but who he was…and who he was had always been more than good enough for Hercules. Better than good enough…irreplaceable, respected beyond measure, trusted without question, and loved beyond imagining.

Setting his fears aside, Hercules allowed Iolaus' boundless good humour and enthusiasm to envelope him, listening to the cheerful whistling and enjoying the warmth of the bright, clear day…grateful for this day and every day the Fates would allow him to share with Iolaus.

And, despite himself, he also wondered how many debts to Iolaus he'd be able to call on, should the need ever arise.


End file.
